


five times she didn't and one time she did

by holtzbabe



Series: Us? A couple? [3]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Flash Mobs, More movie nights, and maybe a proposal?, baseball games, elaborate pranks, featuring:, it's a part three!, the paparazzi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:32:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holtzbabe/pseuds/holtzbabe
Summary: The first time it happens, it's almost funny.The next four times are just cruel.





	five times she didn't and one time she did

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Never thought I'd be writing a third part to this series, but here we are! :) Hope you enjoy!

The first time it happens, it’s almost funny.

Erin gets back to the lab after her morning coffee run and heads right upstairs to where her girlfriend is standing on top of a worktable with a pen between her teeth, holding a sheet of paper up to the ceiling light. Her eyes are magnified four times their regular size behind her goggles. She has ink on one cheek and paint on the other.

She’s also singing at the top of her lungs to Heart’s ‘Alone.’

The woman Erin loves, everyone.

“ _Til now, I always got by on my own_ ,” Holtz screams. “ _I never really cared until I met you!”_

“I’ve got your coffee,” Erin shouts over the music.

Holtz kicks her leg in the air. “It’s my girlfriend, everyone! Erin, babe, come up on stage!”

“The table, you mean.”

“The _stage_.”

“Right, well, the ‘stage’—” Erin puts the word in air quotations with her free hand— “won’t hold both of us.”

“Erin. Eriiiiin. Puh- _lease_. As if I’d let you fall.”

Erin sets Holtz’s coffee on a nearby table, out of harm’s way, and steps closer. Holtz throws her arms in the air and hoots. She squats and extends a hand to help Erin climb, somewhat ungracefully, up onto the table.

“Dr. Erin Gilbert,” Holtz shouts at nobody. “Sing along, Erin!” She holds an imaginary microphone in front of Erin’s face.

“Shit, I don’t know this— _you don’t nuhnuhnuhhh to touch and duhduh tiiight_.”

“A for effort!” Holtz brings the fake-microphone to her own mouth. “ _You don't know how long I have waited, and I was gonna tell you toniiiiight._ ” She bobs her head. “All together now!”

“ _But the something something lada blow, and my love for you is still a gnome—”_

_“Aloooonnne!”_ The guitar solo hits and Holtz thrashes around. “Did you just say ‘a gnome?’” she shouts in Erin’s ear.

“I don’t—”

“Chorus!”

“ _Till now, I always got by on my own,”_ they scream together. “ _I never really cared until I met you.”_

Patty arrives at the top of the stairs, takes one look at them, and then turns around. “Nope,” she says, waving behind her. “Not today.”

“ _And now it chills me to the bone—how do I get you alone? How do I get you alone?”_

They keep repeating the phrase until the song winds down, and then Holtz sinks to her knees with the last chords and dramatically tears the piece of paper she was holding in half.

Erin looks down at her. “Was that important?”

“No. Probably. Maybe.”

Erin crouches and sits, then swings her legs around and climbs down off the table, kissing Holtz’s cheek on the way by. “Well, that was fun. Coffee’s over there for you. And oh—I almost forgot.”

She grabs the other item she left with the coffee and holds it out to Holtz.

“Look at what I found at a newsstand on my way back.” She shakes her head with a smile.

Holtz takes the tabloid and sits down on the table, kicking her legs as she reads the front page. “‘Ghostbusting Girlfriends Bust Out Rings At Last! Jillian Holtzmann finally popped the question to long-time lover Ellen Gallblert’—oh, _so_ close—‘on a crowded Manhattan street on Tuesday.’” Holtz looks up in glee.

“Isn’t that so ridiculous?” Erin laughs. “I had to buy a copy. I mean, that photo is from, like, last year. Remember, we were eating ice cream and hiding from the paparazzi? Look, they badly photoshopped it to look like I’m holding a ring. Like, why would both of us be on the ground? The whole thing is so terrible.”

“I think it’s fantastic,” Holtz says with a wide grin, “and I personally wouldn’t call that a bad photoshop job. I mean, I bet whoever photoshopped it doesn’t have much experience, or any experience, but was trying her best. You’ve got to applaud the effort, right?”

Erin snorts and takes the tabloid back. “No, it’s bad.”

Holtz claps her hands together. “Now, the real question is where could they have gotten a tip like this? Someone must _really_ want this story out there.”

Erin looks up. Something is gleaming in Holtz’s eyes. Erin tilts her head to the side and is about to say something when Holtz speaks again.

“You know, this reminds me.” Holtz hops off the table and moves closer. “There’s…this question. That I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Erin is sweating suddenly. “Oh. Um. Really?”

Holtz plucks the tabloid from Erin’s grasp and flips through it nonchalantly. “Yeah. You see, from the very beginning, these ridiculous tabloids have been a part of our relationship. Since before we were even together, actually.” She looks up with the crooked grin that Erin adores so much. “So, I don’t think this is going to come as a surprise that I’m asking you now…Erin Gilbert, my love, will you…”

Erin stops breathing.

“…stop reading that trash?”

Erin laughs nervously. “What?”

Holtz throws the tabloid over her shoulder and takes Erin by the hips. “Come on,” she says. “You don’t need that crap in your life.” She leans in ever-so-slowly. “Do you?” she breathes by Erin’s ear.

“I do,” Erin blurts. “No, I mean—I don’t. Um. I—” She backs away suddenly from Holtz. “I gotta get to work. Uh. Enjoy the coffee. Love you. Bye. Um.”

Then she retreats from the lab, and as she jogs down the stairs, she _swears_ she can hear Holtz laughing.

What just happened?

 

* * *

 

Erin doesn’t forget about it, per se, but she doesn’t think about it a whole lot, which is why she’s a little blindsided a few days later.

She’s going over some recent math with Abby downstairs when Holtz calls her name. She’s sitting on Kevin’s desk and has been chatting with him for a while.

Holtz beckons her to come over. Erin glances at Abby, who just shrugs.

Erin wanders over to the reception area, notebook still in her hand. “What’s up?”

“Hey, babe.” Holtz beams. “You look ravishing as always.”

“Thanks?”

“Kevin here has something he’d like to ask you,” Holtz says, then leans back with a self-satisfied smirk.

Erin clutches her notebook to her chest like a schoolgirl. “Uh, okay? What is it, Kev?”

Patty looks up with interest from where she’s reading nearby. Erin can feel Abby listening behind her, too.

“Erin,” Kevin says, flashing his beautiful teeth. He looks quickly at Holtz, who gives him an encouraging nod. “Will you marry—”

“ _What?!”_

“—my friend Hansel?”

Erin blinks and hears Patty start to laugh.

“Okay, first of all.” Erin looks at Holtz in exasperation. “You can’t have _Kevin_ do this for you! Are you serious? Come on!” She looks back at Kevin. “Secondly, _seriously_ , Kev? It’s _Holtzmann_. How long have you known her? Why is it so hard for you to remember her name?”

“Erm,” Kevin says, “Erin, you and Holtzmann aren’t actually a couple, remember?” He laughs. “Don’t worry, I forget sometimes, too. Anyway, my friend Hansel from cheerleading is single and I think the two of you would really hit it off.” He smiles in his dopey Kevin way.

Erin’s mouth is hanging open. She closes it.

Patty is howling with laughter now. So is Abby.

Holtz leans forward, still smirking. “Erin, darling, did you think—”

“What?” Erin blurts. “No!”

“—that I was using _Kevin_ to ask you to—”

“No! Of course not! I didn’t—”

“It really seemed like you did.” Holtz’s eyes twinkle.

“I didn’t—I wasn’t—I’m not—I have to go,” Erin says hurriedly, backing away from reception.

“That was gold,” she hears Abby say as she locks herself in the bathroom.

Okay, seriously, what is going on? Is Erin going crazy?

 

* * *

 

Erin isn’t going crazy.

A few days later, Holtz oh-so-casually suggests they go for a walk in Central Park.

“Um. Sure?” Erin shuffles some papers on her desk. “Give me ten minutes?”

“Nope.” Holtz rocks back on her heels and checks her watch. “We need to leave right now.”

Erin raises her eyebrows. “We _need_ to?”

“Yup.” A blinding grin. “Come on. Let’s go.” She holds out her hand.

Erin eyes her for a moment, then stands from her desk and takes her hand.

Holtz is half-skipping as they make their way there.

“Holtz, what’s going on?” Erin is a little breathless from keeping up with her energetic girlfriend.

“Whaddya mean?” Holtz gives her a toothy smile. “I just thought we could use some fresh air.”

“Wow. That bird over there just took a shit on a little girl,” Erin deadpans.

Holtz arcs her hands with an equally serious expression. “Nature.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Holtz smirks and knocks her shoulder against Erin’s. “I have a feeling we should head about…three degrees to the northeast.”

Erin shakes her head in amusement. “Lead the way.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Erin ducks. “Where?”

Holtz lets out a honking laugh as Erin straightens up with a smirk of her own.

“Ghost humour. Always a classic. Love it.” Holtz gives her a little push. “Love _you_.”

Erin’s smile softens. “Love you too.”

“Wow, what a _perfect_ segue,” Holtz says, spinning to face Erin. She whistles as she trots backwards, pulling Erin by her hands into an open area. “Hey, Erin, see any birds?”

“Shitting? No.” Erin shrugs in a _what are you gonna do?_ type of way. “Other than that? Well, I mean, it is Central Park. So. Yeah, there’s a bird or two.”

Holtz chuckles. “Any in the _sky,_ perhaps?”

“Well, I’d certainly imagine there’d be birds in the sky, Holtz.”

“You are _so_ funny, Erin, did I ever tell you that? You are easily the funniest person I know.”

“Thank you, I try.”

“I know you do. Really hard.” Holtz’s warm laugh tapers off. Her eyes soften and she flops her head to the side like a puppy. “Humour me and look up?”

Erin’s stomach flips. She slowly looks up.

“Oh,” she says, trying to keep her voice even. “That’s, um…there’s a skywriter up there. Spelling out my name.”

Holtz turns and sidles up beside her, taking her hand and leaning her head on her shoulder. “Fascinating. What a phenomenal coincidence.”

“Oh, yeah, seems like it,” Erin says. She’s breathless again. She clears her throat.

The pilot swoops and finishes an m.

Erin peeks at Holtz. She’s watching the plane like a gleeful child.

_m a_

Erin squeezes Holtz’s hand.

_m a r_

Erin holds her breath. “Holtz…” she squeaks.

“Hey.” Holtz waggles her finger. “You gotta wait ’til it’s done.”

The plane starts the second r and then…crosses over it?

_m a r t_

Erin frowns and lets out a nervous giggle. “Must have been hired on a budget.”

The pilot loops around.

_m a r t ?_

“Um.” Erin blinks.

Holtz turns to her, smiling sweetly. “Erin, you are the love of my life. I want to be beside you for the rest of my life, supporting you through whatever happens and whatever dreams you follow. Which is why…I want to ask you…if you would consider opening a chain of grocery stores with me called Erinmart?”

Erin lets go of Holtz’s hand and takes a step away from her. “Oh my _god_ , Holtz.”

Holtz’s face falls. “You hate the idea. Is it the name or the idea? Doesn’t matter—we can change either.”

“You hired a _skywriter_ for this?”

“Only the best for my Erin,” Holtz says with a straight face.

“I don’t even understand this. Have these been _pranks?_ With Kevin…and the tabloid…I’m just…I’m so confused?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Holtz says, but then the corner of her mouth slips and she winks so quickly that Erin almost misses it. Then the straight face is back.

Erin shakes her head incredulously, unable to stop a faint blush from creeping across her cheeks. “Can we go back to work, now, or is there more?”

Holtz chuckles and extends her elbow for Erin to take.

“Alrighty, so no grocery store chain,” she says as they start walking back in the direction they came. “I may have missed the mark. I’ll get it right next time, I promise.”

Next time?

What has Erin gotten herself into?

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Patty?” Erin fiddles with her hands and tries to sound casual. “You and Holtz are pretty close, right?”

Patty looks back from her armchair and gives Erin a weird look. “If I’m bein’ honest I _think_ you might be a bit closer—”

Erin laughs nervously.

“—but yeah? Why—you need birthday gift ideas?”

“Nope, not that, because you know—her birthday is four months away—but thanks, I’ll, um, yep. Keep that in mind.”

Patty lifts her wine glass. “Cheers.”

Over by the microwave, Holtz and Abby are loudly debating when they should call it and remove the popcorn.

“It’s burning!”

“Abby, I know burning. _That_ is not burning.”

“Hey, Patty?” Erin tries again. “Has Holtz told you anything about…I don’t know, anything?”

Patty doesn’t turn. “Gonna have to be more specific.”

“Um. Like…a prank, maybe? Something like that?”

“Nope.”

“Anything about me, then?”

“Girl never shuts up about you.”

“Okay, but, like—”

Patty takes a lazy sip from her wine, still facing away from Erin. “You know you been fiddling with your ring finger for the last ten minutes, right?”

Erin freezes and looks down at her hands. She immediately drops them. “No I haven’t.”

Patty shifts and turns to face her again, her wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim as she moves. She doesn’t say anything, just looks at Erin with her eyebrows raised.

“Shut up,” Erin says, face heating up.

Patty smirks and raises her glass, then settles back into her chair. “Patty’s going back to sleep. Wake me up when the movie starts.”

As if on cue, Holtz and Abby return, still quarrelling about the popcorn.

“Oh, come on,” Abby says, “you didn’t get the movie ready?”

Erin winces. “Sorry, I’ll—”

“I got it,” Abby says with a roll of her eyes.

It’s at that moment that Holtz comes hurtling over the back of the couch and into Erin’s lap, sending a shower of popcorn up in the air from the bowl in her hands.

“Holtz! Seriously?”

Holtz shuffles around, leaning into Erin’s abdomen and knocking the wind out of her for a second, and then briefly kisses Erin’s nose. She puts the popcorn bowl on the coffee table and moves so she’s facing Erin, straddling her. Then she very solemnly, without breaking eye contact, reaches into her back pocket.

A second later, she’s brandishing a pair of tickets in Erin’s face.

“Surprise!”

Erin frowns and takes them. She stares at them for a second, then looks up. “A…baseball game?”

“Sure is!”

“You hate baseball.”

“Yep!”

“ _I_ hate baseball.”

“Sure do!”

Erin looks to Abby for guidance on this, but she’s still queueing up Tarzan.

“I’m really not following,” Erin says, turning her attention back to her girlfriend.

“You. Me. Baseball game next week! What’s not to understand?”

“But—”

“Shut up, guys, the credits are starting,” Abby says as she takes a seat on the far end of the couch.

Holtz winks and climbs off Erin’s lap, curling against her side instead.

They’re a few minutes in when there’s a snore from the armchair.

“Shoot,” Erin says, “I was supposed to wake up Patty when the movie started.”

Holtz lays a hand on her arm. “I’ve got this.”

She plucks a single popcorn kernel from the bowl, draws her arm back, and launches it.

It pings off Patty’s shoulder.

“A solid hit,” Holtz whispers. “We might need another.”

“Shhhh,” Abby hisses. “Why is it _always_ the popcorn with you guys?”

“We can’t help it, Abby-dearest,” Holtz says as she winds back to throw another piece. This one ricochets off Patty’s head.

“Strike two,” Erin whispers.

“See? You like baseball,” Holtz says at full volume.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhh.”

“Sorry Abby,” they chorus quietly.

Holtz pinches another popcorn kernel out of the bowl. “I’m going to use my curveball,” she whispers.

“If you throw one more piece of popcorn at me I _will_ kill you,” Patty says loudly.

Holtz drops the kernel back in the bowl. “Patricia! You’re up!”

“Everyone _shut up_.”

Erin giggles.

To their credit, they do manage to keep quiet for the rest of the movie (other than singing along to the songs, because how could they not?)

Once the end credits have rolled, Holtz honest-to-god climbs up onto the back of the couch and crouches there, curling her fists towards her chest.

“Holtz-mann,” she grunts, patting her chest. “Holtz-maaaann.”

Erin plays along. “Holtz-mann,” she says slowly. “Oh, I see!”

“Oh, I see,” Holtz parrots with a grin. “Holtzmann…oh, I see!”

“No, no, no, I’m _Erin._ ”

“No, no, no, I’m _Erin_.”

“No, no. _Erin_ …” Erin presses her palms to Holtz’s chest. “…Holtzmann! _Erin…_ ”

Holtz reaches out to tip Erin’s chin up, studying her face with an expression of adoration like it _is_ the first time she’s seen it. “Erin,” she says happily.

“Alright, knock it off,” Abby says. “This is getting gross.”

Erin doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the night, and she forgets all about the weird stuff going on with Holtz.

In fact, she forgets all about the baseball tickets too until Holtz shows up at her desk the next week wearing an actual baseball shirt and throws something soft at Erin’s face.

“What are you _wearing?_ ”

Holtz spins around and points her thumbs at the back, where HOLTZMANN is printed. She turns back around with a grin and nods her head at the bundle of fabric that landed on Erin’s shoulder. “Take a look.”

Erin shakes out what turns out to be a matching shirt with GILBERT on the back. They also have their Ghostbusters logo in place of a team logo.

“Right, we have…the game tonight,” Erin says hesitantly.

“Put it on! We gotta get goin’!”

And that’s how Erin finds herself in the stands of a baseball game for the first time in her entire life. She has no idea who’s playing or who she’s supposed to be rooting for or how baseball works, but Holtz keeps singing ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game’ in her ear, has bought them hot dogs, and is now paying for some Cracker Jack. Of course she is.

Here’s the thing—apparently baseball games are _long_.

Erin is yawning at some point between inning ten thousand and inning ten million, and Holtz elbows her.

“Hey, we’re on the big screen!”

“What?” Erin’s eyes snap to the screen, and sure enough—

“Oh, what’s this…I’m being handed a microphone?”

“Holtz,” Erin says, panicking, her eyes darting between the screen and her girlfriend, who is smiling and now clutching a microphone.

“Erin Gilbert,” Holtz says into the microphone, her voice booming into the stands, and Erin thinks she’s going to die of embarrassment right here.

“Oh my god,” she says quietly, covering her face.

Someone nearby whistles.

Erin peeks through her fingers. Holtz is giving her the goofiest, cheesiest grin.

“Erin,” Holtz says again, “I am the luckiest woman in the world to be able to call you mine. You make me so goddamn happy. Every day that I get to spend with you is like a dream come true and I will never get tired of spending time with you.”

Okay, even though Erin is mortified, her heart _does_ aww at that. She moves her hands a little more off her face.

“That’s why I have a very important question to ask you, and I brought you here, to this baseball game that neither of us want to be at, so everyone can hear it. So, without further ado…my beautiful, beautiful Erin, would you do me the honour…”

Erin’s heart is beating so loud she’s sure the microphone must be picking it up. Her breath catches.

“…of ditching this boring baseball game and going to dinner with me instead?”

A collective gasp ripples across the stands.

“Oh my god, _Holtzmann_.” Erin’s face is beet red, for sure. “I need to get out of here. Immediately,” she mutters.

“She said yes!” Holtz cheers into the microphone and scrambles after Erin as she picks her way down the row.

There’s confused, scattered clapping as Erin reaches the end of the row and steps onto the stairs. Holtz presses the microphone into the chest of the worker they pass, and he grabs it with a dumbfounded expression.

Holtz pats his shoulder. “Thanks, buddy!”

“What _was_ that?” Erin hisses. Everyone they pass is staring at them.

“Okay, that was torture. I didn’t think it would be _that_ bad.”

Erin falters. “Yes…you’re right. Thank you for acknowledging that. That _was_ torture.”

“I mean, serves me right for trying to shake things up and try something new. Learned my lesson, for sure. Baseball games? The _worst_.”

“What? No! I meant _that_ was torture! That… _thing_ that you just pulled!”

“Qu'est-ce que c'est?”

“Nope, no, you’re not playing dumb. It was cute the first three times, now it’s just insulting.”

“I really, truly do not know what you’re referring to.” Holtz smiles angelically as they step outside. “Let me take you to dinner to make up for the most boring date night ever?”

And damn it if Erin can’t stay mad at that face.

 

* * *

 

Holtz has dragged Erin to a coffee shop on the same block as the firehouse, which has Erin understandably on-edge. It’s a terrible place, the kind where the coffee is always cold and there’s a small rotating display case with some questionable pastries and cakes that look like they’ve been there for days.

It’s also almost dinnertime, so, not the best time for coffee.

Erin keeps looking around her for signs that something is going to happen, but the shop is quiet. There are more people than she’d expect, but nobody is so much as looking their direction.

“You seem jumpy.” Holtz blows on her coffee, which is a terrible idea.

“What? No.” Erin looks over her shoulder and makes eye contact with an old woman, who glares back. She looks back at Holtz. “I’m just, you know, wondering why we’re here.”

Holtz lifts her cup. “Coffee.” As if to prove her point, she tilts her head back and chugs the rest of it, then sets the empty cup on the table with a smack of her lips.

Over the coffee shop’s tinny speakers, the opening notes to a familiar song play.

Holtz looks up with interest. “Oh, I love this song. Hey, Venancio,” she calls to the man behind the counter, “can you turn the music up?”

Erin raises an eyebrow as the volume cranks up. “You know him by name?”

Holtz just grins and ignores her, bopping her head to the beat. Erin taps her foot under the table. Why can’t she place this song? It’s on the tip of her tongue.

Then Holtz abruptly stands, and in one impossible move she leaps up on top of the table. Erin jumps back in surprise.

_‘When it feels like the world is on your shoulders_ ,’ Holtz lip-syncs into an imaginary microphone, wiggling her shoulders as she does so, ‘ _and all of the madness has got you going crazy.’_ She propels a finger around the side of her head, and that’s when it clicks.

Oh god. Erin recognizes it now.

“ _Holtz_ ,” she hisses, “get down!”

_‘It's time to get out, step out into the street.’_

Holtz is now moonwalking across the _very_ small table.

Erin grits her teeth. “This was cute at the lab, but everyone is staring. Please get down.”

 ‘ _Where all of the action is right there at your feet!_ ’ Holtz steps down off the table—by stepping right onto her chair and doing the Fred Astaire chair tip. She executes it flawlessly and then she struts around the table back towards Erin, still mouthing along to every word. ‘ _Well, I know a place where we can dance the whole night away_.’ She raises her arms to the heavens. ‘ _Underneath the electric stars._ ’

Erin’s face must be burgundy by now.

Holtz takes Erin by the hand and pulls her up from her seat, shimmying as she does so. _‘Just come with me and we can shake your blues right away.’_

Erin, mostly in shock, lets Holtz spin her under her arm. ‘ _You'll be doing fine once the music starts.’_

Then the chorus hits, and as it does, every single person in the coffee shop gets up simultaneously.

Yes, even the old woman.

_‘Oh! To the beat of the rhythm of the night, dance until the morning light.’_

They’re all dancing. All of them. And it’s _choreographed_. Holtz has skipped back a few steps and is dancing along.

“A flash mob?” Erin shouts over the music. “What year is this?”

Everyone holds their head in their hands and swings from side to side. _‘Forget about the worries on your mind, you can leave them all behind.’_ They all do a fake shoulder brush-off and a wave.

Then everyone descends into unchoreographed madness, jumping and turning and shaking and pointing and clapping. _‘To the beat of the rhythm of the night, oh the rhythm of the night, oh yeah.’_

There’s a brief instrumental break, during which time, Holtz grooves back over to Erin and takes her hand, pulling her towards the door. She leans into it and it swings open, and she ushers them through.

Oh, and strangely enough, the music is blasting from somewhere outside as well.

_‘Look out on the street now, the party's just beginning.’_ Holtz moonwalks again, facing Erin and traveling down the sidewalk in the direction of the firehouse. She beckons for Erin to follow, a shit-eating grin on her face.

_‘The music's playing, a celebration's starting.’_ And sure enough, everyone on the entire block stops where they are, slides out of the way to clear a path for them, and starts dancing along either side of the sidewalk.

Erin waves her hand in the air as she chases after Holtz. “This kind of thing isn’t meant to happen in real life,” she shouts to her. “This isn’t a Disney movie.”

Holtz stops moonwalking and does a few diagonal hop-steps towards Erin, both arms raised in a squat U-shape over her head. ‘ _Under the street lights the scene is being set.’_

She grabs Erin by the hand and waist suddenly, pulling her into a waltz position. _‘A night for romance_.’ The lengths of their whole bodies touch and Erin forgets how to breath for a moment. _‘A night you won't forget.’_

Holtz leans in, her breath tickling Erin’s neck. “ _So come join the fun_ ,” she sings into Erin’s ear, then pulls back and is back to mouthing. ‘ _This ain't no time to be staying home_.’

In one swift move, Holtz turns, releasing Erin’s hip but keeping hold of her hand. ‘ _Oh, there's too much going on_.’ She pulls Erin along as she dances in the direction of the firehouse again. Erin has to half-jog to keep up. The people on either side of them are still dancing.

_‘Tonight is gonna be a night like you've never known.’_

They reach the front doors of the firehouse and Holtz leans casually against the wall and smirks at Erin.

‘ _We're gonna have a good time the whole night long_ ,’ she mouths, throwing in a wink as she reaches up without looking and raps on the door with her knuckle.

The door swings open just as the chorus hits again, and they step inside to find…more strangers.

More strangers, doing more choreographed moves to the music pumping through the entire building, and in front of the crowd are Abby, Patty, and Kevin.

_‘Oh, to the beat of the rhythm of the night.’_ Holtz hops into place beside the rest of the team and joins in. _‘Dance until the morning light.’_

“There are people in our firehouse,” Erin says. “Okay. Um.”

_‘Forget about the worries on your mind, you can leave them all behind.’_

The choreography dissolves into freestyle time again. Erin has a hard time figuring out where to look. There’s just so much going on. Kevin is attempting the Worm.

_‘To the beat of the rhythm of the night, oh, the rhythm of the night, oh yeah.’_

The music turns instrumental again and Holtz makes a break for the stairs, which is when Erin notices that there are dancers on every step, twisting and hopping and inviting broken ankles to occur.

Erin also notices, for the first time, that there is someone _pole dancing_ on the firepole.

“Oh my god,” she says as she heads to the stairs as well, assuming she’s supposed to be following Holtz up them. “Sorry, excuse me, thank you,” she says as she ducks around the dancers lining them.

The second-floor lab is full of what looks to be professional pairs, given the impressive lifts they’re doing when Erin arrives.

“This has got to be a safety hazard,” Erin calls to Holtz, but her girlfriend is already heading for the next staircase and motioning for her to follow.

They reach the third floor just as the lyrics start up again.

_‘Come join the fun, this ain't no time to be staying home.’_

There are no dancers on this floor, just Holtz, but she’s going at it with everything she’s got. Erin has never seen her dance this hard, and that’s saying something. It’s _Holtz_.

_‘Oh there's too much going on, oh.’_

Holtz is boogying towards the last set of stairs, the ones that go up to the roof. She skips up them, not breaking rhythm at all.

_‘Tonight is gonna be a night like you've never known.’_

She reaches the top step and turns to face Erin.

_“We're gonna have a good time the whole night long,”_ she sings out loud. “ _Oh!_ ” She throws the roof door open.

The key changes as Erin steps out onto the roof.

_‘To the beat of the rhythm of the night.’_

Erin can only stare.

_‘Dance until the morning light.’_

There’s at least a hundred people shoulder-to-shoulder on the roof, all clad in 80s neon.

_‘Forget about the worries on your mind.’_

It’s a full-on rave.

_‘You can leave them all behind.’_

There are beachballs flying around, and everyone is jumping en masse, hands in the air.

_‘To the beat of the rhythm of the night, dance until the morning light. Forget about the worries on your mind.’_

Holtz is dancing her way over to the ledge, cutting through the crowd. Erin follows.

_‘Oh, to the beat of the rhythm of the night.’_

She peers over the ledge.

_‘Forget about the worries on your mind.’_

Down on the street in front of the firehouse, everyone from the coffee shop, the sidewalk, and downstairs have all gathered and are dancing, too.

_“To the beat of the rhythm of the night_ ,” everyone on both the roof and the street sings. “ _Forget about the worries on your mind._ ”

Then everyone starts step-clapping back and forth.

“ _La la la la_ ,” everyone sings along. “ _La la la la la la_.”

“Join in, Erin!” Holtz shouts.

Screw it, Erin thinks. She might as well have some fun.

She joins in with the step-clapping and sings along.

“ _La la la la_.” She grins at Holtz. “ _La la la la la la_.”

DeBarge continues to sing in the background. _‘The music's playin', it's a celebration_. _The music's playin', everybody dance!”_

Everybody joins in singing again and Erin follows.

_“To the beat of the rhythm of the night.”_

She dances, too.

_“Forget about the worries on your mind, you can leave them all behind. To the beat of the rhythm of the night, dance until the morning light.”_

As the song begins to fade out, the crowds on the roof and road cheer at the top of their lungs and clap.

Holtz hops in front of Erin, forehead sweaty, a massive grin on her face. Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath.

“Well, that was something,” Erin says. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Abby, Patty, and Kevin slip out of the rooftop door, and that’s when she remembers.

She swallows.

“Okay, then, get on with it,” she says.

Holtz raises an eyebrow, still panting. “Get on with what?”

Erin gestures. “You know. Whatever. Don’t you have, like, a wildly inappropriate fake-out question to ask? Isn’t that how this goes?”

Holtz looks left and right. “Uh. No?”

Erin laughs. “Then what was all this?”

“Why, I’ve always wanted to be in a spectacular musical number,” Holtz says, hand over her heart. “Ever since I was a girl.”

“Oh my _god_ , Holtz.”

“And I really do love this song.”

“I know,” Erin says.

“I don’t know if you remember, but—”

“You danced for me for the first time to this song, yeah I remember.”

“—this song was playing that time I found $20 on the ground in that store,” Holtz finishes at the same time. She raises her eyebrow. “ _Oh_.”

“What? I mean. Uh. Yeah, that’s…what I said, too.”

Holtz’s eyes are twinkling again. “Was that this song, too?”

“I don’t…maybe…I don’t know.”

“You remember it well, huh? My moves do tend to leave a lasting impression, don’t they?” She thrusts her hips to illustrate her point.

Erin blushes and tries to ignore all the people surrounding her that are very obviously listening to this whole conversation.

“Okay, so let me get this straight—”

“Humanly impossible for me,” Holtz interrupts. She draws an imaginary point in the air with the tip of her finger. “Gay joke!”

“—good one—so, you planned, rehearsed, and executed this _whole thing_ just…because? Because you wanted to?”

Holtz angles her head and crinkles her eyes, scrunching her nose up cutely. “You know, this isn’t really that complicated. I dunno why you’re having such a hard time understanding.”

Then, so fast that Erin could’ve missed it if she blinked, Holtz winks, just like before.

Erin lets out a puff of air through her nostrils and shakes her head with a smile. “You are something, you know that, right?” She looks around. “So, uh, can we get all these people out of our lab, now?”

“Oh, no, they’re all getting paid for an hour, and I’m not wasting a minute of it. I’m gonna put them to work.”

“No, that’s _definitely_ not happening.”

“Everyone dressed in pink,” Holtz calls, “you’re on cleaning duty. Oranges, you get to learn about how a particle accelerator works. Fluorescent yellows, how would you like to see inside a ghost containment unit?”

“Nope,” Patty shouts at the crowd, appearing at Erin’s side out of nowhere. “Ignore her. She’s joking.”

Abby’s there too. “I’m going to need everyone to exit the building in a _calm and orderly_ manner and— _hey! You with the tube top! I’m talking to you!”_ She pushes off into the crowd.

Holtz after her, throwing one last wink over her shoulder before she shouts. “You heard the woman! There shall be _absolutely no_ nonsense or buffoonery! Anyone who disobeys will _not_ get a chance to meet a ghost.”

“ _Holtz_ ,” Erin calls after her, but it’s a lost cause. She shakes her head again.

“Y’know,” Patty says thoughtfully, “when Holtzy asked us to be part of a secret elaborate DeBarge performance, I really thought it was headin’ in a different direction.”

Erin spins to face her. “ _Right?_ Yes! Thank you! That was _totally_ set up to look like—”

“But she didn’t set up any cameras to film, so obviously it ain’t gonna go viral.”

“Yeah—wait, what?”

Patty looks at her. “I thought she was tryna get internet famous so she could make it on _Ellen_. What’d you think she was doing?”

“Um.” Erin blinks. “Yeah, same. That’s what I…immediately thought. When she started dancing on the table.” She coughs.

Patty sighs. “I’ll never understand that girl.”

“No,” Erin says with a sigh of her own, watching as the crowd on the roof thins out, “neither will I.”

 

* * *

 

The next week, after all remnants of the DeBarge spectacle have been scrubbed from the firehouse, Erin is talking to Patty at her desk when Holtz comes flying down the firepole and lands with a thud like a graceless cat.

She saunters over to them.

“Erin, m’dear, care to accompany me to go get ice cream?”

“Ha ha,” Erin says. “I’m not falling for that.”

Holtz leans against Patty’s desk with an amused half-smile. “Falling for what? Ice cream?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, we go get ‘ice cream’ but behind the counter is a string quartet playing a love song that you wrote about me and you say ‘oh, ha, what a funny coincidence! I’ve been meaning to ask you if I can join a band!’ Or we go get ‘ice cream’ and suddenly we’re eating it in a hot air balloon and we fly over a message on the ground that says ‘Erin, will you…get us down because I’m scared of heights?’ Or we go get ‘ice cream’ and buried in my ice cream is a ring and you tell me to read the inscription and I read it and it says ‘rum and raisin is the worst flavour’ and I pretend to laugh even though I nearly choked to death on the stupid thing. Or we—”

“I can see you haven’t been thinking about this at all,” Holtz says, eyes sparkling.

Erin folds her arms. “I’m just not falling for it this time, okay?”

“Did you consider that _maybe_ I just want to get ice cream with my beautiful girlfriend on a gorgeous Tuesday like today?”

“Nope. I don’t buy it.”

“Really. Seriously. I just have a hankering for some ice cream. I _guess_ I can go alone, but that’s no fun.”

Erin doesn’t say anything.

Holtz steps closer and reaches to brush something off Erin’s cheek. “Please?” she breathes.

“Ugh,” Patty says from beside them. “Just go, Erin, I don’t wanna see this.”

Erin bites her lip. “Fine,” she says quickly.

Holtz beams and kisses her cheek, then takes her hand and salutes Patty. “Thanks, Patty.”

Patty gives them a little wave as Holtz pulls them towards the door.

They set off in the direction of the nearby ice cream parlour. Holtz swings their hands between them as they walk.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” she asks.

Erin smiles despite herself. “Not recently, no.”

“Well, I do. Super much.”

“Love you too,” Erin says. “Super much.”

Holtz stops suddenly and swings around so she’s facing Erin. “Good. Because…”

She slowly sinks down onto one knee, right in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Don’t you dare,” Erin says. “You promised me. Just ice cream.”

A little buzzing noise in the back of her head is quick to remind her that Holtz has never gone _this_ far. Yet.

Holtz blinks earnestly up at her. “Erin…will you…wait for me for a minute? I dropped a contact lens.”

“Oh my _god_.” Erin plants her hands on her hips, upset now. “I can’t believe you. You _promised me_. I’m over it, Holtz, okay? I’m done. No more. This isn’t funny anymore.” She shakes her head and turns away.

“I found it!” Holtz calls cheerily.

Erin whirls back around. “I said _enough_. Can’t you see I’m…”

She trails off.

Blinks.

“What is that?” she asks quietly.

Holtz doesn’t break eye contact, still kneeling, arm outstretched. “Contact lens.”

“Neither of us wear contact lenses.”

“Nope,” Holtz says, smile stretching wide across her face.

Erin takes a step closer.

“That’s a ring.”

“Sorry, no inscription.”

“I…Holtz…this is too far this time.”

Holtz opens her mouth to respond, but at that moment there’s a distinct nearby shutter click.

“ _Shit_ ,” Erin says, and drops to the pavement.

“What are you—”

“ _Paparazzi_ ,” Erin hisses. “Come on, of all times? Seriously? This nightmare is going to be plastered _everywhere_.”

“That’s not the paparazzi,” Holtz says.

“Oh, what, it’s a tourist with a professional camera?”

“Or, maybe—I’m just thinking out loud here—a professional photographer hired to capture this beautiful moment?”

Erin barely hears her, because the sun is glinting off the ring in Holtz’s hand and she’s taking her first real look at it.

“Holy crap, is that diamond real?” she blurts.

“Nah, it came in a box of Cracker Jack.”

“Oh. Of course. Yeah. That makes sense. Duh.” Erin looks over her shoulder. “Think the coast is clear?”

“Erin.”

Erin looks back. “What?”

Holtz tilts her head. “You’re kind of derailing me, here. Probably serves me right, but man. I did not plan for this.”

“What are you talking about?”

Holtz gives her a long look and then licks her lips and tilts her head to the side. Eyes soft. Crooked, heart-breaker smile.

She looks _nervous._

She inhales. “I love you, Er. I want to spend the rest of my time on this wild planet driving you crazy and goofing off with you and spending every minute of my days with you. It would be a _privilege_ if you’d give me the honour of irritating you for the rest of our lives.”

Erin stares at her, wide-eyed.

“Ellen Gallblert,” Holtz whispers, “marry me?”

Erin’s heart actually stops.

“Actually? Actually for real? Are you seriously, actually, really asking me, Erin, your girlfriend, to marry you?”

“Seriously actually for real,” Holtz promises, crossing her heart for good measure.

“Yes,” Erin says immediately. “Yes. Absolutely. I will marry you. No take-backs! Ha!”

Holtz’s face erupts into a colossal grin. “Really? I half-expected you to say no as payback.”

“Damn,” Erin says, “that would’ve been good. I should’ve thought of that.” She shakes her head. “Whatever. Give me my Cracker Jack ring.”

Holtz beams. “With pleasure.” She slides the ring onto Erin’s outstretched, expectant hand.

Erin pulls back and holds it in front of her face to take a good look at the ring. “Jesus, Holtz, how much did you spend on this?”

“If I’m being honest? Not as much as I spent on the skywriter, baseball tickets and screen time, and 250 professional dancers.” She winks. “Don’t worry about it. I got a nice fat cheque from US Weekly for the story I sold them.”

“That _was_ you.” Erin smacks her arm.

“Who would’ve thought that our _actual_ engagement shot would also feature us both on the ground? Looks like that was a _perfectly reasonable_ photoshop job after all. Speaking of which—can we get up? My leg went numb five minutes ago.”

“Oh, yeah.” Erin stands, knees cracking, and helps Holtz up as well.

Strangers continue to walk by, uninterested in them. It’s like nobody noticed or cared about what they were doing. The thought fills Erin with happiness.

This is all she ever wanted. A moment to themselves. No flash, no scene, no spectators, just them.

Looks like Holtz knew that all along.

“Come on, fiancée of mine,” Holtz says. “I do believe I owe you a rum and raisin.”

“Oh, I do believe you owe me a _lot_ of rum and raisins to make up for all you’ve put me through in the past month.”

“I do believe you’re right,” Holtz merrily agrees, extending her elbow. “Ice cream?”

Erin nods, a smile spreading across her face as she links her arm with Holtz’s. “Ice cream,” she confirms.

Yeah, okay, Holtz might already be forgiven.

 

 


End file.
